


The Forgotten

by Id_flyifihad_wings



Series: The Forgotten [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Multi, Tags to be Added When Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-06-04 22:46:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6678400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Id_flyifihad_wings/pseuds/Id_flyifihad_wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a series of serial murders plants the newest Private Investigator, Dean Winchester, on the case, he has only a few weeks to solve the mystery before another kill takes place. With the help of his friends, he is able to piece together the puzzles set up just for him. </p><p>Will he be able to survive his own personal nightmare, or will everyone and everything he loves be destroyed?<br/>(Currently on hold)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Case

Bobby Singer had called him into his office for a 'talk.' For Dean, that could mean one of two things; a case, or a promotion.

 

He'd been expecting one for weeks now, especially with talk of his little brother, Sam, moving up in the private investigative world. 

 

Dean had one of his best suits on, the sinking sun splashing gold and orange all over the glass as he walked down the street and toward his office building. It was only 5:00, but for New York City this time of year, it grew darker at about 5:10, sometimes earlier. 

 

When he arrived, Josie Sands, the front desk attendant, gave him a wide smile and let him pass. She had bright red lipstick on to match her bright red hair, the short, black dress she had on hugging her form in all the right places. If Dean had been straight, she'd definitely be his type. Her blue eyes were almost as striking as his husband's, in fact, that he often found himself lost in them. 

 

Dean pushed the seventh floor button in the elevator, making it light up. He was the only one inside. 

 

When he reached Bobby's door, he knocked gently. The door flew open and a lanky man stormed out and crashed into Dean. They both went flying to the floor with grunts of pain. 

 

"Oh, no, I'm so sorry, Dean!" the man, whose voice matched his goofiness, rushed to help Dean stand. Garth Fitzgerald IV, the most annoying human on the planet to Dean, was - to be frank - the most awkward guy it was hard not to laugh. His gangly limbs stretched out and bone-thin fingers wrapped around Dean's arm to pull him up. He was stronger than he looked.

 

"Dammit, Garth, ya' idjit. Can't ya ever watch where the hell you're goin'?" Bobby snapped as he poked his head out of his office door. "Dean, hurry up," he added in a rush, motioning Dean inside. The large, metal door slammed to a close behind them as they made their way to chairs.

 

"What's this about, Bobby?" Dean wondered. Bobby waved at the chair to get Dean to sit, so he did so, wordlessly. 

 

"I've got a case for ya. You're the newbie, so I think it'd be great experience for youtta take this one. I'll post Charlie with ya too, she's plenty smart enough to help," Bobby handed Dean a file with a proud smile. 

 

Since the death of Sam and Dean's mother, Mary (she committed suicide after losing a third child) and their father, John (he was killed as part of a serial killer's pattern, which ultimately led to both the brother's PI interest), Bobby had practically raised the two as his own. It was a lot of work on his part, but despite the protests against it, he did well. 

 

"You really think I should handle this? It looks pretty - I dunno - advanced," Dean questioned with doubt, glancing up at Bobby in between reading the file.

 

"Yes, Dean, I put you on this case 'cause I know you can handle it. You sayin' my judgement's wrong, boy?" Bobby raised an eyebrow.

 

"No, that's not what I was saying, at all. I just meant - never mind. Thanks, Bobby. I'll see what I can do," Dean stood and moved to the door. "Is this the most recent one?" 

 

"The one on top is, yeah. If you're gonna go check it out take backup, I ain't sure what you'll find," Bobby warned him. Dean simply nodded in reply and stepped into the waiting elevator, wondering who to take with him as backup. 

 

He could always bring the most seasoned PI, which would be Charlie. Or he could go the other route and bring another newbie, like his little brother or Kevin. 

 

In the end, he decided to ask Josie to contact Charlie for him. She dialed her number and waited. "Hello, Charlie," she greeted in a sensual voice. 

 

"Dean wants you downstairs ASAP," Josie smiled at something Charlie said. "Okay, will do," she hung up and looked to Dean. "She'll be down in a moment," she told him. 

 

"Great, Josie. Thanks for getting her down here. It's always so hard for me to get her to focus, you'll have to teach me how to do that," Dean joked, earning a wink from Josie. 

 

"What d'you want, Deano?" a high voice came from behind Dean, so he turned to see the bouncy, red curls of Charlie. Her lips curved into a smile as she came up to hug him tightly.

 

"You wanna drive?" Dean asked her, flashing his keys. She reached out for them, but he quickly took them back. "Come on, Charlie. You think I'd let you drive my Baby? I don't even let Sam drive her."

 

"God, Dean, you asshole. Don't get a girl's hopes up like that," Charlie ducked into the pristine, lowriding, 1967 Chevy Impala and got comfortable, glaring at Dean as he climbed in. 

 

"Hey, you can't blame me. Especially after what happened last time I let you drive. I had whiplash for five days, not to mention the suspension and tire pressure was off, thanks to you," Dean listed off the top of his mind.

 

"It's not my fault you're a control freak," Charlie muttered unahappily as she crossed her arms to fake pout. 

 

"Whatever."

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

They arrived at the taped off scene and were allowed access after flashing their badges. 

 

What Dean walked in on was not was he was expecting. A man in a pressed, expensive looking suit lie on his kitchen table with a giant hole ripped clean through his stomach. Bloody, pale entrails hung down to the floor and bled freely onto the hardwood, creating splotchy stains. What Dean could only assume was stomach juice dripped in uneven puddles on the wooden table. His red flesh was peeling away in some parts, flys buzzing around and landing only to take off once more. 

 

The man's lifeless eyes were gaping at the ceiling where a suspicious circled A sat, big enough to encircle the whole table. On closer inspection, Dean was also able to see a straight line with two triangles on each side burnt into the man's forehead. 

 

"Hey, I know this guy!" Charlie exclaimed, coming to examine the body farther. "He's a billionaire, named Baldur. He had a lot of enemies," she commented sadly. 

 

"Go talk to the witness and see what she saw," Dean ordered as he motioned to the dead-eyed women getting comforted and covered with a blanket. 

 

Dean set to work then, slipping on latex gloves and moving Baldur's head to the side. There was no indication of how long he'd been dead, he'd have to wait for the forensics lab to get back to him on that. He did, however, manage to find a piece of paper curled in the pocket of the pampered suit. Addressed to himself. 

 

He unfolded it and read it cautiously. 

 

'Put the money in the bag' 

He said through nervous teeth, 

I just did as I was told 

To reduce the tension and grief. 

 

But that was not as bad 

When I was sitting at my desk 

When a double barrel sawn off 

Was pointed at my chest. 

 

Have fun searching for your life

 

Dean closed the note and tucked it into his pocket, deep in thought. It was a section of a poem, that much he knew. But, what did it mean? And how had his name ended up on this paper?

 

"Okay, I've got everything I'll get from her. Find anything?" Charlie flipped her notebook closed as she waltzed up. 

 

"Just these weird symbols. Recognize them from anywhere?" Dean wondered, pointing out the one on Baldur's neck and ceiling. 

 

"No idea," Charlie admitted sheepishly. 

 

"Look at this. This is the fourth murder in the last four months. You'd think they'd all be on the fourth, to follow the pattern, but all the murders so far have happened on the sixth. For this one, we'll have to wait for the crime lab's report, but I can almost guarantee the time of death was sometime on the sixth," Dean flipped through the papers as he spoke. 

 

"You found a pattern that fast? Jeez, no wonder Bobby put you on this case. You're going to solve it where some other PI wouldn't have been able to," commented Charlie with a grin. 

 

"What did the witness say?" Dean asked, ignoring Charlie's praise for right now. They were on a case, there was no time for teasing and joking. 

 

"Okay, so, she said sometime at night she heard screams and went to investigate. She found Baldur on his table, bleeding out all over the place. So she rushed back to her place upstairs and called the cops," Charlie told him, opening her notebook again to get the information right. 

 

"So Baldur was alive when someone started doing this to him?" Dean scoffed and shook his head, trying to get the images out of his head. "What kind of freak does this to people?" he muttered under his breath. 

 

"According to Mrs. Henson, he was alive and kicking when she peeked inside," Charlie nodded and came closer to Dean. "And she saw a figure, tall. That's all she saw of it, she said it was really dark," she continued on with her notes. 

 

"Did she hear the figure say anything?" Dean questioned.

 

"No. She just said it was tall. She also saw a dark gray vehicle driving away. She didn't know what kind of car, she said it looked like it had four doors and a big trunk, but that could really be anything," Charlie shrugged. "Oh, and she said that the symbol on the ceiling was there since she heard about the last murder. Apparently Baldur never noticed." 

 

"Alright, let's head back. I'll contact the crime lab and go over to collect all the reports and files on these cases," Dean tilted his head toward the door and watched Charlie practically bounce away. He moved past the witness, a comely women with unfocused green eyes and flowing blonde hair that fell in waves to the middle of her back.

 

"Good idea. They'll be able to tell us the time of death and all that. And it'll help to know if there was any tampering with the evidence," Charlie agreed with a smile. 

 

She turned to see Dean had stalled in the doorway of the apartment, gazing inside at something she couldn't make out. "Dean!?" 

 

He turned at the sound of her voice and came out with an uneasy look. "Did you see the reversed cross above the stairway?" Dean asked her. Charlie shook her head and looked disgusted. 

 

"Why would Baldur have a reversed cross in his stairway? I know he was a Christian, we went to the same church. Plus, he was a pretty serious one. He'd get mad at people even using the Lord's name in vain, so he'd never have that," Charlie told him. 

 

"So, he definitely didn't do that. Then who did?" Dean sighed and scrambled into his car, not bothering to wait for the answer. He knew no one would have the answer he wanted right now anyway, and he needed to talk to the guys at the precinct to get the security footage. 

 

After what seemed like a very long drive, Dean and Charlie reached the safety of their office building. "Alright, I'm gonna head out to the crime lab and the precinct and see if I can find anything more. Do me a favor and fill Bobby in on what we found out, yeah?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

 

"Of course, will do," Charlie agreed, nodding her head as she held a thumbs up. "Good luck at the precinct, especially with that Crowley guy, huh?" she grinned as Dean rolled his eyes and took off. 

 

Crowley was the head of the precinct, and flirted with Dean every time he went in, which also pissed off his husband to no extreme. In way it flattered Dean, but at the same time, it was annoying. Crowley always wore an expensive looking suit. He was a smarmy British man with a stocky stature and chubby fingers that always clutched a glass of Glencraig Scotch.

 

When Dean parked his car, the station was already swarming with police cars readying themselves to drive to their regions and other civilians. 

 

"Here to see Crowley, eh Dean?" the lady behind the glass window asked. Dean couldn't remember her name, but her Minnesota accent was so noticeable to his New York ears it was laughable. 

 

"Yes, ma'am. Just real quick, shouldn't take more than five minutes," Dean nodded as she stood. Her build reminded him of Crowley's, slightly stockier than most, yet probably more fit than half of the officers in this building. 

 

"Crowley loves seein' ya', don't'ch'ya know?" she grinned, pausing in the smacking of her gun as she did. "Oh! I should probably letchya in, huh," she laughed at herself and moved to the locked door that led back to Crowley's office.

 

"Thank you kindly," Dean squinted to read her name tag, "Donna." He smiled at her as he passed, but didn't bother to wait and listen for her reply. He waltzed right into Crowley's office without knocking, only to find him jumping up and shoving a women away from him. 

 

"Dean! I - uh - I wasn't expecting you today," he commented nervously, still standing behind his desk. Dean rolled his eyes in disgust and snorted. 

 

"Yeah, I can tell. I need to talk to you," Dean said back. Crowley made a strange motion with his hand and the women hurried out of his office. Dean watched her go and raised an eyebrow at the sound of a zipper from Crowley's side of the room. 

 

"That wasn't what it looked like," Crowley assured him.

 

"Oh, I'm sure. Not the point," Dean shook his head to rid the images from his mind. "I need the security tapes for these residences. The dates I need are in the file," he hands Crowley the files with a smirk. 

 

"Sure, I'll get right on that, Dean. I'll have one of my guys get them delivered to you later today," Crowley nodded and set the file down on his desk. "Will that be all, then?"

 

"Yeah, man, thanks. Hey, have you seen a banker come in today. Blue eyes, dark hair?" Dean wondered. Crowley narrowed his eyes as he regarded Dean's information.

 

"No, I haven't seen anyone today. You'll have to ask Donna, she sees everyone come in and out of this place," Crowley answered. 

 

"Alright. I'll ask her then," Dean nodded and moved to the door. "Sure you haven't seen him?" he asked again. 

 

"I'm absolutely positive. I wouldn't dream of lying to you," Crowley said in a sardonic tone, a smirk on his face. 

 

"Yeah, alright. I'm heading to the crime lab next. Get those videos to me by ten and I won't mention your hooker to your boss," Dean told him tiredly, heading out with a small wave. 

 

Crowley returned it eagerly. Once the door closed, the smile on his lips disappeared and he glared at the door. "Smartass prick," he growled under his breath. 

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Dean arrived at the crime lab a half hour later, since he lived in the middle of New York City and the lab was closer to Manhattan. It took another five minutes for Dean to flash his ID and get in. 

 

"Well, hey there, Dean. Nice of you to drop by. How've you been?" Jody grinned at him as he walked in.

 

"Busy. Got a case. I'm here to check out the reports and bodies, if you don't mind," Dean replied with an easy smile. 

 

"Only here for work, as always. You know, one of these days you're gonna have to take me out to dinner," Jody turned and led him to get desk.

 

"I'm married. And gay," Dean laughed as she shook her head.

 

"I'm married too, hon. I'm not talking about a date, I'm talking about catching up. Hell, bring your husband with ya, I'd love to meet him," Jody sat in her chair.

 

"Yeah, maybe. Not today, though. Today, I've gotta look at these," he handed her a slip of paper with the names written on them. 

 

"Alright. I got some things the investigators found on the body too. Poems, if I remember right," Jody stood and motioned for Dean to follow as she headed to the metal doors containing the four bodies. 

 

"Number one is Sarah Blake. Murdered on the sixth of October," Jody said, pulling the door on the left at the bottom open. She drew the white covering off to reveal a pretty, dark haired girl. She had high cheekbones and fair skin. Dean figured she must have been beautiful alive. 

 

"Any belongings?" Dean asked.

 

"Uh, yeah. A wallet. That's all that was on her besides her clothes when they found her," Jody nodded, grabbing the bag and handing it to Dean. "They found her in an alleyway. That slip of paper is the poem," she continued.

 

"Alright. Thanks, I'll take a look at her while you get the other bodies out. Sound good?" he asked. Jody nodded and moved away. 

 

Dean slipped on a pair of gloves and dug the paper out of the bag. He gently unfolded it to make sure it didn't rip.

 

And the last bus 

Comes letting dark 

Umbrellas out- 

Black flowers, black flowers. 

 

And lives go on. 

And lives go on 

Like sudden lights 

At street corners 

 

He's out of luck

 

Dean shuddered internally. As he reread the poem, Jody spoke up. "Number two was Matthew Pike. Cute kid. Found at a bus stop outside Manhattan. He was killed November sixth," she explained. 

 

Dean didn't walk over at first. He inspected the strange symbol on Sarah's neck, the same one Baldur had on his forehead. 

 

"Hey, did you guys happen to find a circled letter A anywhere over Sarah when she was found?" he asked.

 

"There was graffiti all over the wall. I reckon an A was probably the cleanest thing we found," Jody told him. "Why?" 

 

"Not sure yet. You said this kid was found at a bus stop? This poem is about a bus. And the killer signed at the end saying 'He's outta luck,' but I dunno. Maybe it's a coincidence," Dean suggested. 

 

"No idea. We did find another poem on this kid too, stuck in his jacket pocket. He didn't have any ID on 'em, probably too young," Jody pulled the sheet back. 

 

This boy had to have been only 13. His sandy blonde hair reminded Dean of his brother almost with the length. Dean cringed at the thought of Sam lying here with bruised cheeks and a slit throat. 

 

"Here. This is all that was on him," Jody handed Dean another slip of paper. 

 

Soon I will make my appearance

But first I must take off my rings

And swords and lay them out all

Along the lupine banks of the forbidden river

 

You'll never find her

 

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Let me guess, the next body was a women found by a river," he concluded.

 

"Yeah, she was. The only possession she had with her was her wedding ring, which was out on a rock beside the body. Rebecca Warren was killed on the sixth of December, but it took two weeks for the guys to find her. Another poem found with her," Jody pulled out the next body. 

 

Dean noticed the same symbol on Matthew's palm, it was stabbed into his hand and still open. "Found an A over him too?" he wondered.

 

"On the ceiling of the bus stop above him," Jody nodded. "And on the rock beside her," she motioned to Rebecca. 

 

Dean took the poem that Jody held out to him. 

 

Slow death invasion 

Slick, black, silent, riding waves 

Man again breaks faith 

 

With eyes wide open he sees all

 

Dean sighed heavily and set the poem back down. "These are all connected. The first poem was a clue to the next murder, and so on. This one was about Baldur, the newest kill. So the one I found with him is a clue to the next murder," he exclaimed, making Jody jump away from his excitement. 

 

"In Baldur's house, there was a reversed cross, that's the line about man breaking faith," Dean continued. "Okay, look. This is the one I found," he handed Jody the thin paper.

 

"Let's look it up online," she said before hurrying to her desk and computer. She typed the lines into the search engine and waited. 

 

Dean stared at the same symbol on Rebecca's cheek, the skin a pale, sickly yellow. "Hey, I know the kid had his throat slit, but how'd the others die?" 

 

"Rebecca was drowned. And Sarah was poisoned. She had signs of antemortum injuries, so she could have been tortured before she was killed," Jody told him.

 

"What kind of poison?" Dean stood straighter and waltzed over to Jody's desk.

 

"Uhm... I'd have to look at my reports," she admitted sheepishly. "I found your poem. It's called Don't Move written by Peter Hall. It's about a bank robbery." 

 

Dean felt panic flutter in his chest as he scrambled for his phone and dialed his husband's number.

 

"Dean, I am attempting to earn income, why do you insist on contacting me when I am working?" his gruff voice is music to Dean's ears.

 

"Listen to me, if anyone comes in there to rob the bank, don't be at the window. You drop down and you crawl away from it. You understand me, Cas?" Dean asked frantically, rushing the words out in choppy breaths.

 

"What? Dean, no one is going to rob the bank," Cas answered with confusion. His voice dropped to a whisper, and Dean could imagine him looking at the other tellers.

 

"Just do what I say, alright!" he shouted, feeling Jody's eyes on him with slight fear. 

 

"Don't yell at me, that doesn't get us anywhere, honey. Talk to me," Castiel prodded gently.

 

"I'm sorry, Cas, I'm just worried. I got a case. And there's a poem on each body connecting to the next murder. The one I found on the most recent is about a bank robbery. I dunno if it's gonna be yours, I just don't want you to be hurt," Dean told him. 

 

"Calm down. To assuage your fears, I promise you that if someone is threatening robbery, I will not be at the window. Now, I must insist you and I both return to work. Solve your case before someone else gets killed," Cas replied quickly. "I love you," he added with a smile in his voice.

 

"Yeah, okay. Love you too. I'll see you at home," Dean hung up before Castiel could answer.

 

"Your husband work at a bank?" Jody wondered innocently.

 

"Yes. I just.... God, I heard that and I just freaked the fuck out," Dean laughed nervously as he stuck his phone back in his pocket. 

 

"Hey, I wasn't judging. I would've done the same thing if it'd been my husband," Jody waved off his sudden panic with a smile. "You wanna look over the reports for Sarah's poison, right?" 

 

"Please," Dean nodded. Jody stood again and led him to the file cabinets. Sorting through them, she pulled out one. 

 

"Sarah was poisoned with Aconite. It's a flower native to northern parts of the earth. Extremely poisonous. It causes asphyxiation," Jody explained.

 

"Wolf's bane, right?" Dean asked. Jody flashed him a proud grin and nodded.

 

"Yessiree. The one and only. Normally only 20-40 mililiters of it is fatal, but Sarah here was found with 70 mililiters in her system. She would've been dead in under an hour and it would've been extremely painful," Jody seemed to wince at the words. 

 

"That's terrible," Dean mumbled unhappily, shaking his head at the unfairness of it all. Sarah probably had a boyfriend, she had a life and someone had to come and end it. And the poor kid. It hurt Dean to see such a young kid dead.

 

"Here, these are my reports. Give 'em a once over and hopefully it'll help with your research," she held out the folders to him. He took them gratefully and then sighed softly.

 

"Thanks for all your help, Jody. This'll help a lot, I think. I'll try and get them back to you tomorrow," he told her. 

 

"Just whenever you can is fine, hon," she patted his shoulder. 

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Dean arrived back at his desk at 8:47 p.m. and set to work typing out his own report.

 

Four victims so far. Poems found on each. Sarah Blake killed first. Poisoned _by acotine; plant. Poem led to Matthew Pike, 13 or 14. Slit throat, killed second. Third kill Rebecca Warren. Drowned, took two weeks to find. Fourth murder Baldur ???. Stomach torn open, still alive when killed. Possibilty for all murders?_

 

_Strange symbols found on all of the victims. Circled A's also found somewhere above each murder site. Possibly killer's signature of successful kill._

 

_Killer is probably psycopathic, as evidence by violent murders. Maybe has a mental disorder. Skilled with a knife and possibly familiar with the victims. Prior knowledge suggests stalking tendencies._

 

_All murders took place on the sixth. Only real connection so far._

 

Dean finished, rubbing a rough hand down his face with a tired sigh. His phone rang so he reached for it only to realize it was his desk phone. He picked it up.

 

"North American Investigations, New York City. Dean Winchester speaking," he answered.

 

There was a moments pause before the voice spoke. "Crowley gave me this number. This is Dean?" 

 

"Yes, Dean is speaking. What did Crowley say?" 

 

"I have the survailence videos for the dates you wanted. I was just calling to tell you they were delivered to your office building and will be up to you momentarily," the women cleared her throat as she spoke.

 

"Oh, alright. Thanks for letting me know, I guess," Dean answered. The receiver clicked and left Dean with white noise for a few seconds as he processed the information. 

 

Finally, he set the receiver down in its place and waited. Dark clouds fogged his mind as he thought about the possibility of Cas getting hurt. A bank robbery. 

 

There were plenty of banks in New York City and its surrounding cities, the chances of it happening at Cas's bank were slim to none. Still, just the prospect that it could happen freaked Dean out more than he'd ever admit.

 

He noticed Josie sauntering towards his desk, smacking on her gum as she gave him a kind smile. "Package arrival for you, Dean. I think its the surveillance videos," she told him when she reached his office door. 

 

"Charlie tell you about that?" he asked her with a grin. Josie simply shrugged and came in to set the box down. "Hey, can you level with me real quick?"

 

Josie tilted her head slightly then said, "Of course, Dean. What is it?" 

 

"This case that I'm working on is starting to have similarities to some of the past cases I've worked. Before I came here, when I was in training, my superior and I worked cases like this. A girl getting poisoned, drowned, a young kid with his throat slit and a guy with his stomach torn out. It's like a real bad case of deja vu, you know?" Dean sighed.

 

"Okay. What am I supposed to be telling you the truth about?" Josie wondered in confusion.

 

"I wanted to ask if you remember any satanic symbols from your time as Abaddon with Nick," Dean told her softly. Josie reared back and crossed her arms. 

 

"And if I did?" she asked in the same quiet but urgent voice Dean used.

 

"You'd be helping me save someone," he punctuated his words by setting out two different pictures. One was of the A, the other was the weird axe-looking thing.

 

Josie gazed at the pictures before nodding minutely. "This," she pointed to the A's, "is used as a mark of death, like a warning or an omen. It's usually painted or drawn on the ground." She looks at the other picture. "That is used in death rituals. It's to send the soul off to the underworld basically," she explained.

 

"So they're both satanic? You're sure?" Dean prodded quickly.

 

"Yes, I'm sure," Josie nodded crossly. 

 

"Thanks, Josie. Hey, if you have any other information about him, please be sure to let me know," Dean came over and leaned against his desk.

 

Josie gave a curt nod and turned away, quickly walking back to the elevator. 

 

Dean assumed he felt bad for digging into her past, but deep down he knew he didn't feel guilty. Instead, he felt relieved now that he knew what the symbols meant.

 

He saved his report and stood up from his desk, the rolling chair wheeling back slightly as he grabbed his briefcase.

 

"See ya, Josie!" he waved to her as she flicked off the lights. "Hey, thanks for the help earlier," he added.

 

"Goodnight, Dean," Josie replied. Dean was out the door and driving off in his Impala when she looked up next.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Dean reached the warm confines of his apartment ten minutes later. It was now almost 9:30, but he didn't feel tired at all. 

 

"Hey, Cas, I'm home," he announced. He could smell the aroma of steak and potatoes, so he eagerly made his way to the kitchen.

 

Their apartment was fairly big, taking up the entire too floor of the complex. The kitchen was Cas's favorite part, which had led Dean to purchase it in the first place. 

 

"I have food prepared for us," Cas's gruff voice reminded Dean of rocks against a beach shore. Hard and rough and cracked, but still smooth and rich.

 

"I can smell that. Looks great, Cas. Smells even better," Dean grinned and leaned against the counter with his elbows for support.

 

"Take a seat, it will be complete momentarily," Cas remarked.

 

Dean did as he was told and watched Cas work. His methodic fingers were quick as he cooked. Sam had once asked Dean what he saw in the hypertense, super-serious guy. Dean had simply said "you haven't seen him cook like I have" and it effectively shut him up. 

 

Plus, Dean had to admit Cas was extremely attractive with his bright, curious blue eyes, and his dark hair that stuck up everywhere (no matter how much he brushed it), and the fact that even though to others he looked skinny under all his layers of clothes, Dean knew better. Dean had seen the toned muscle and the firm but gentle way they moved against him.

 

The thought made Dean's skin tingle with desire as Cas made his way over to him. He set a plate down in front of Dean and smiled gently. 

 

"Thanks, angel," Dean scooped a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. Cas chuckled at him and picked at his own food. "What's the matter, aren't you hungry?"

 

"Oh, of course I am. However, I am also thinking of this case. You could be in danger as well, Dean. It worries me," Cas admitted sadly. His deft fingers paused from grabbing his fork as he worded his fears.

 

"Cas, I'm gonna be fine. You shouldn't worry about me. You should be worried about whatever bank is getting robbed next and who the hell this fucker is gonna kill," Dean gruffly answered through his mouthful of green beans and steak. 

 

Cas leaned back in his chair and stared hard at his intwined fingers. "What if you aren't safe?" he asked with a slight edge to his voice. 

 

"I will be. If I'm not safe then Bobby'll take me off the case," Dean reassured him. "Look, Cas. I have a chance to help people here, a chance to make a difference in this shitty world. If I can solve this case, that's one less psycho off the street," he continued. Despite the hard look on his husband's face, he was excited about this case.

 

"That is not the point here, Dean. You could be hurt, or worse," Cas retorted harshly. His blue eyes flare with rage as he stares tensely at him. 

 

"Alright. Sorry," Dean muttered as he let his fork clatter onto the plate. The noise echoed in the abrupt silence as they share glares.

 

"We need milk," Cas informed him suddenly, standing up and setting his plate in the sink with as minimal noise as possible. He hated when Dean was mad, because then he'd do things like this: slamming doors and passively aggressively eating at him with withering stares.

 

"I'll go get some," Dean mumbled, dropping his plate forcefully on the counter in front of Cas. The fork bounced up and flung a glob of mashed potatoes right onto Cas's shirt. 

 

"Dammit, Dean," Cas growled slowly, breathing a sharp breath of annoyance with clenched fists unfurling slowly. 

 

Dean cringed and quickly reached for a rag before pulling Cas close. He wiped at the stain and looked up at him. "I'm sorry," he apologized softly. 

 

Cas met his eyes and melted into his arms. "Dean, it's fine. I understand why this case is important to you, I am simply concerned for your well-being," he set his head on Dean's chest and wrapped his arms around him.

 

Dean pulled Cas closer and kissed the top of his head. "Do we still need milk?" he wondered innocently. 

 

Cas shook his head and led him away and to the bedroom. They didn't fall asleep until nearly an hour and a half later.


	2. The Patterns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Whatever. Here," he handed Dean a slip of paper and then fixed his stack of books he'd tipped over.
> 
> Still confused, Dean? Allow me to give you a hint. Sometimes there's more to a story than your eyes see.
> 
> "Dude, why does this have my name on it? Who is this from?" questioned Dean in a frenzy.

January 8, 2016 (29 Days Left) 

The next morning, Dean woke up at four. Despite not falling asleep until about 11:30 last night, he didn't feel tired at all.

He glanced over at Cas, who was snoring soundly, and smiled. He hardly ever got to spend time with him, except on the weekends when they were both free. Unless Dean had to answer a call from Bobby, that is.

Last night had been the first time they'd had sex in months, and Dean didn't regret a thing. Cas was a different story. He liked his sleep, and even if he would redo last night in a heartbeat, that didn't mean he was going to be anything but grumpy.

Dean set to work on the coffee so that Cas would at least be able to survive the day. Cas loved coffee, but he liked it without anything in it.

When Dean heard shuffling feet, he was grateful he had the coffee ready. He poured it into a mug and to hand it to Cas as he shambled into the kitchen.

He didn't say a word but thankfully grabbed the mug from Dean's hand and sat down heavily at the table. His blue eyes were bright in the dark room, filled with bleary sleepiness and rage. The messiness of his ebony hair made Dean smile fondly.

Cas eyed him from his vantage point at the table, sipping methodically at his bitter coffee. They both watched each other drink their morning beverages in silence.

"So, last night, huh?" Dean smirked and raised his eyebrows, his tongue wetting his lips subconsciously.

Cas simply rolled his eyes and continued on his bout of quiet.

"Right. I forgot you don't speak until after noon and coffee," Dean teased him. Cas raised his mug and tipped it back to finish it off, holding up his middle finger as he did.

Dean just chuckled at his crude morning habits and walked over to ruffle his hair. "I love you even though you hate everything in the mornings," he leaned forward and planted a kiss on his lips.

"I am surprised my morning breath does not kill you where you stand. And a little disappointed at that same point," Cas replied blearily, his harsh mood showing in his words and his glare.

"Love trumps morning breath, Cas," Dean told him with a shrug.

"You have told me that many times," Cas pointed out as he yawned, handing Dean his coffee mug.

"Want more?" Dean wondered. Cas nodded and shifted in his seat so he could lean against the window sill. The sun was beginning to rise now, its golden rays outlining Cas's head in a halo of white.

"Here," Dean handed his husband the mug and smiled warmly as Cas took it and downed it like Dean downed Corona.

"Thank you," he mumbled finally.

"You want something to eat? I can make pancakes if you're hungry," asked Dean.

"No, I'll stop and buy something on the way to work," Cas answered with another yawn.

"Alright. Hey, is today Friday?" Dean wondered. Cas looked up at him and nodded slightly. "So, Jody wants to have dinner with us, I was just wondering if tonight would work?"

"I have to close up tonight, so I will not be home until late. Perhaps tomorrow," Cas suggested.

"Awesome. I'll tell her when I see her later," Dean grinned. "We could go to that sushi place you've been wanting to try," he added happily.

Cas chuckled kindly and smiled. "That sounds wonderful, Dean. Thank you," he said.

"Well, if Jody wants sushi, I guess. You want me to text her so we know for sure?" Dean questioned as he patted his jean pockets for his phone.

"It fell on the floor last night," Cas quickly commented. "Also, I lost your shirt somewhere under the bed," he continued.

"Huh. I was wondering where that had disappeared to," Dean stood and went to their bedroom to grab his phone from under the nightstand. He even crouched down to search under the bed for his shirt, but as Cas has said, it was gone.

"Yeah, I can't find it either," Dean called.

"Text Jody. I will try and find it while I get dressed," Cas said once he arrived in the room. Dean stood up and ran his hand down his chest.

"And clean under there while you're at it, huh? It's filthy," he complained. Cas rolled his eyes and stole a kiss before heading to the bathroom.

"Not happening. Are you dropping me off today?" Cas wondered, turning to face Dean again and leaning against the door frame.

"Yeah. I have to go shopping too, so that'll be fine," he agreed. Cas dipped his head and turned to take a shower.

Dean faced their closet and grabbed a black tee, a blue button up (he was pretty sure it was Cas's), and his canvas jacket. He stuck with the dark jeans he was already wearing and then reached for his boots. After stuffing socks on, he began the process of tying his shoes.

First, he pulled the laces tight starting from the bottom. Then was the knotting and double knotting. By the time he was done, the water in the shower had stopped and he could hear Cas moving around.

"Did you forget to bring clothes in there?" Dean wondered. There was a grunt of annoyance from Cas and he stuck his head out.

"Yes. I need the blue tie today, too. Blue tie on Friday," Cas told him.

"Does it matter what suit I give you?" Dean asked while he sorted through Cas's remaining suits.

"The black one. It should be the second one," Cas replied from deeper within the bathroom.

"Got it," Dean muttered to himself as he grabbed the second black suit and Cas's favorite blue tie. "Hey, you want your trench?"

"Not today. The forecaster said it would be in the mid 70s," Cas said. Dean walked into the bathroom to see Cas watching the weather on his phone.

"Here you go," Dean held out the clothes to Cas and he took them.

"You forgot underwear," Cas pointed out suddenly. Dean cracked a smile and went to grab them. He came back in and threw them at Cas, hoping to surprise him. To his dissapoinment, Cas easily caught them. "Thank you."

"Yeah, whatever," Dean mumbled unhappily. Cas got dressed methodically, the news still playing quietly in the background. "Why don't you just take off today?" he suddenly complains.

"Why would I do that?" Cas wondered with curiousity. 

"Cas, you're forgetting to bring clothes in the friggin' bathroom, I don't think you're awake enough to function at work," Dean explained easily. 

"I am not sick, therefore I cannot just - what's the phrase? - play hooky," said Cas back once he stuck his head out of the bathroom door again. 

"Cas, come on! Last night was the first time we've done anything together since October! I wanna do stuff with you, man," Dean exclaimed unhappily, his voice raising in pitch with his boiling anger. 

"Dean, we had intercourse last night. We are having dinner with Jody tomorrow evening, and you believe we do not do things together?" Cas slid out of the bathroom to lean against the doorframe and ease some of Dean's rage.

"No, it's not the same thing, okay!? I wanna do stuff with you: just us, no one else. Something that isn't sex or - or dinner dates with someone else's date!" yelled Dean adamently, throwing his hands out to punctuate his point. 

"Please stop, Dean. We are only fighting like this because we are both sleep deprived," Cas holds a hand out to steady his husband. "Which is not to prove your point, but to make my own," he added in a rush when he saw Dean's eyes light up with victory. 

"If you're so sleep deprived then stay home, for God's sake," answered Dean stubbornly. The obstinate side of Dean never ceased to piss Cas off, and, despite his best efforts to remain calm, it oftentimes meant him scaring Dean enough to make him leave.

"I am not missing work for your own fantasies of what normal should be!" he finally shouted over Dean's grumbling. He slammed his fist down into the vanity counter and sighed heavily when he saw Dean flinch. "Now, I am terribly sorry, but I am running late for work." 

Facing Dean's stubborn side while he was mindlessly awake; not his best idea, but he knew it needed to be done. Dean could be so idiotic sometimes, it was all Cas could do to not strangle him. Of course, he'd never really hurt Dean (only in his mind), but that didn't stop the gruff words or fury that radiated off of him as he stormed out of the house. 

Dean's heart beat like a piston out of his chest. Morning-Cas wasn't usually that infuriated, but morning-Cas mixed with not-enough-coffee-Cas and I-need-my-sleep-Cas was always a bad combination if you asked Dean. He hated this. He hated himself for doing that to his husband. 

He checked his phone for messages, only to see a text from Jody and two missed calls from Sam, who had left a voicemail.

Sushi sounds great. Thanx for the invite. How's seven sound? Dean typed in a quick reply that seven was fine and then checked the voicemail from his brother. He had called almost an hour after he'd woken up.

"Hey, Dean. It's me. Listen, man, I've got a weird thing going on at my apartment and was just wondering if you'd want to check it out for me. Uhm...call me back when you get this. Thanks," Sam's voice was relief to Dean's ears. With their jobs and them living across town from each other, he hadn't heard from Sammy in weeks and had started to grow worried.

He didn't call back. Instead, he headed for the Impala to do the grocery shopping before Cas got home; he even remembered to write milk on the list. It was too long a drive to the store in Dean's mind, but he knew he needed to shop before Cas came home or he'd kill him. 

Dean arrived at the Cross County Shopping Center and went inside. His first stop was to the Bath and Body Works, for Cas's stupid shampoo and conditioner that famous people used. Apparently it was the only stuff that worked on his unruly locks.

After that it was off to Sears to buy them a new coffeemaker, which they had needed for a few weeks - or so Cas said - because the machine hadn't been fully grinding the beans. Whatever.

Once Sears was done, he lugged the bags into the car and headed to the other side of Manhattan to reach Wal-Mart and The Winery.

The grand total at Wal-Mart was over $200, which put a big damper on Dean's already dank mood. The Winery thankfully had a tasting going on, so Dean happily took part. Another $77.98 spent had him leaving for Target for a few extra supplies; like a new toothbrush.  
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
It was almost one by the time he was done. He carried everything inside and then called Cas when he realized he didn't know where to put the old coffeemaker.

"Hello, Dean," Cas greeted groggily. Dean was glad to hear he seemed to be forgetting the fight from this morning.

"I got the new coffee thing, but I don't know what to do with the old one," Dean told him.

"Give it to our neighbour. The older women on the right? Perhaps she would have use for one," Cas suggested.

"Alright, I'll see if she wants it. Thanks, hon," replied Dean.

"Did you remember the milk?" Cas wondered.

"Very funny, of course I remembered the milk," Dean muttered as he searched through the bags until he found it. "It's in my hand," he added.

"Is it the one percent milk," asked Cas with a smile in his voice.

"Uhm... there's a difference?" Dean questioned in confusion.

"Dean," there was a warning in Cas's voice.

"I'm kidding, of course it's the one percent."

"Oh, that is my boss - yes, Ruby, I'm about to go, I know. Yes - I have to go, Dean, I will see you at home," Cas hung up before Dean could even answer.

He pulled the phone away and sighed heavily before setting it on the counter and returning to the unpacking of his groceries. The wine was for Jody.

Then he grabbed the coffeemaker and headed next door before he forgot. After knocking on the door, he waited for a few minutes.

"Oh, Dean! What a lovely surprise, come in darling, come in," she waved him in happily.

"Uh, thanks, Mildred, but I actually just came to see if you wanted this coffeemaker. We got a new one so, yeah."

"Oh I'd love a coffeemaker. Thank you, Dean. Are you sure you can't come in for a drink or anything?" Mildred wondered, reaching out to set a hand on his shoulder.

"No ma'am, I've got cold stuff that I gotta put up. I - uh - just got back from shopping," Dean held the coffeemaker out to her and stepped away from her hand as she took it from him.

"Well, sure. Thank you, again, Dean," she smiled widely and waved goodbye as Dean dipped his head, clapped his hands together and turned away.

With his back turned, his smile fell and he quickly hurried back inside. He leaned against the closed door and sighed before finally moving to put everything away.

His phone vibrated from its perch on the counter so he grabbed it and answered. "Yeah?"

"Dean? It's Sam. Dude, what the hell - I called you like eight hours ago, and you didn't call me back," Sam rushed to say before Dean could interrupt.

"I was busy," Dean replied stoically.

"At five in the morning? Doing what?" Sam wondered moodily.

"Why were you up at five in the morning anyway?" Dean changed the subject.

"Couldn't sleep. What were you so busy with that you couldn't call your brother back?"

"Cas," said Dean simply.

"Dude, gross. I don't wanna know that," Sam groaned.

"No, man, not like that. We got four hours of sleep last night, and you know how he is in the mornings," Dean reiterated quickly.

"You guys got into a fight? Over what?" wondered Sam.

"After that I was shopping. So, tell me about this weird thing going on," Dean changed the subject once again to avoid the chick-flick moment.

Sam either muttered "you're insufferable" or "you're impossible," but whichever one it was, Dean rolled his eyes. "Can you just come over here so I can - what are you doing?"

"I'm putting up groceries, just - keep talkin' and I'll listen," Dean told him as he rustled through the bags and set everything in it's spot.

"Okay, well, can you just come over so I can show you? It isn't something I can really explain over the phone," Sam told him.

"Uhm, yeah, I'll do that. I'm gonna have to call Cas so he knows I'll be out, and then I'll text you and head over. Sound good?" asked Dean.

"Yeah, man. Thanks," Sam said. "Oh, and Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Drive safe, there was a wreck on east 79th Street yesterday," Sam added.

"Wow, Sammy. Your concern makes my heart melt. It's disgusting," Dean feigned a gagging noise and chuckled.

"Seriously though," persisted Sam.

"Shut up, I'll be fine. I'm not gonna die in a car crash. Now let me call Cas and then I'll head over there," Dean hung up before Sam could reply. He finished putting everything up and then dialed Cas once again.

"Dean, Ruby is going to murder me if she discovers I am on my phone. And I am with patrons," Cas whispered fiercely.

"I just wanted to let you know I'm going over to Sam's for a while. I love you and I'll see you at home. Bye," Dean said all this in one breath before hanging up.

Cas sighed heavily and turned back to his customer. "My apologies, sir," he told the man standing on the other side of the teller's window.

Dean made sure to lock to door before he left. While he was thinking about whether he wanted to take FDR to 79th or just cut through the back roads, he missed the call from Bobby.

Once he got out of the elevator and into the parking garage, he dug his keys out of his pocket and headed to his Impala. He climbed in and started the engine.

He hit the traffic midway through East 79th Street. Frustration bubbled in his throat as he tried to control the rage in his mind. That resolve flew out the window the moment a taxi decided to cut into his lane and scratched Baby's paint.

"Oh, you fucker! What the hell, man!?" Dean raised his hand and flipped the guy off angrily as he grumbled to himself about "stupid fuckers in taxis" and changed lanes to get away from the offending car.

After an extra twenty minutes of sitting in traffic, he finally arrived at his brother's cozy apartment. Dean often wondered how the hell Sam fit inside since the ceilings were so low.

He knocked on the door and waited for Sam to open it. "Dean, hey. Come in," his brother stepped out of the way and let him in.

"You grew you princess hair even more, dude, what the hell? You goin' for a record? Where's your candy goblin?"

"Shut up about the hair, I've been too busy to get it cut. And his name is Gabriel, and he's at work," Sam answered.

"That thing has a job?" Dean laughed heartily at that and shook his head. "I find that hard to believe."

"Yeah, fuck you too. Anyway, follow me," Sam motioned him and then turned to walk off. "It's just something I got," he continued as he rounded the corner and opened a door to reveal a small sitting room with a stack of books by the tiny chair.

"Oh man, and I thought you were nerdy before you moved out," teased Dean as he ruffled Sam's hair despite the height difference. Sam pulled away with a look of disgust and shook his head.

"Stop. Can you focus for two seconds, please?" Sam snapped as he shoved Dean away from him.

"Alright. Sorry, man, I didn't know you were on your period right now," Dean muttered unhappily as he crossed his arm and watched Sam roll his eyes.

"Whatever. Here," he handed Dean a slip of paper and then fixed his stack of books he'd tipped over.

Still confused, Dean? Allow me to give you a hint. Sometimes there's more to a story than your eyes see.

"Dude, why does this have my name on it? Who is this from?" questioned Dean in a frenzy.

"I dunno, man. It was in my mailbox when I got home last night. That's why I couldn't sleep," answered Sam as he crossed his arms. His eyes took on a sad look as he gazed at his brother. "What does this even mean?"

Dean didn't answer, just stared at the note in his hands with fear. "Dean?"

"I'm investigating a case. Whoever killed the people leaves poems behind leading to the next murder. I think they're trying to tell me something about that," he finally said after he'd swallowed past the harsh lump in his throat.

"The one Bobby put you on?" Sam wondered. Dean simply nodded and then turned away from him. 

"I have to go. I need to go," Dean hurried to leave, but Sam stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Tell me what happens, alright? Keep me informed, because I'm your brother and I deserve to know what's going on," Sam told him.

"As soon as I know what's actually going on, I'll let you know right away, okay?" Dean clapped his shoulder with a hand and then headed out.

The drive back home was much easier to handle since most of the traffic was when you were heading into Manhattan. He also had an easier time driving without getting cut off because of the same reason.

He arrived back home at 2:39 and lied around watching television for a few hours. Around five, he stood and got back into his Impala. Just before he took off, his phone rang.

"This is Dean," he answered groggily.

"Damn you boy, I been tryna call you for the past who knows how many hours," Bobby spat once he stopped cursing.

"Sorry, Bobby, I've been busy," replied Dean with a tired sigh.

"I called to tell ya that I got an anonymous tip about the car seen at Baldur's on the sixth," Bobby said. Dean could hear him rustling through papers.

"Alright. Let me hear it then," he agreed almost immediately.

"So it's definitely a dark gray, four door sedan model. Caller said it was a luxury car, and they said it looked like it had an electric port to charge it," explained Bobby.

"Okay. I'll see if I can find out anymore about what kind of car it could be. Thanks, Bobby," said Dean as he rubbed a hand down his face.

"Next time I call you better answer, or I'm gonna tear ya a new one when I see ya again. Got it?"

"Capisce," replied Dean with a nod. The line went silent and he pulled his phone away and hung up, too.

He set his head on the steering wheel and closed his eyes for a few moments before getting out and trudging back to his apartment.

"Gray sedan, big trunk, electric piece of shit. Luxury. Got it," Dean muttered to himself as he sat down at the desk in the office room and pulled up a new tab.

He typed in 'gray luxury sedans with electric engines' and clicked search. Among them was a 2016 Nissan Maxima, a 2016 Mercedes-Benz, a 2016 Ford Fusion, a Tesla Model S, Buicks, BMWs, Cadillacs, and plenty of others.

He printed out pictures of all of them, paper-clipped them together, and then grabbed a folder to put them in. "Great, done," he set the folder down beside the computer and then stood up once again.

Once he was back inside the Impala, he started the engine and drove off.  
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
Cas arrived home around 9:30 and unlocked the door. "Dean? I'm home," he called as he made his way through the house.

He made his way to the computer and sorted through the pictures of the cars. "Thinking of replacing our car, Dean? What is this?"

After that, he found Dean's new toothbrush in the bathroom and stared at it in confusion.

"You didn't need a new toothbrush," Cas commented as he turned to look around the house again. He found the note and picked it up, unfolding it to read.

"Who sent you this? Dean, you have a lot of explaining to do," Cas told himself as he went to get a glass of milk.

Dean arrived home ten minutes after Cas. "Oh, hey, hon. Enjoying that milk?" he teased as he came to hug him.

Cas stepped away and glared at him. "Who sent you this?" he wondered, holding up the note and waving it in Dean's face.

"The killer sent it to Sam. He gave it to me, that's why I was over there, Cas," Dean explained with a laugh.

"Would you like to explain the pictures of cars in that folder, then?" continued Cas in a bitter tone.

"For the case. Bobby got an anonymous tip today about the car, its for the witness," Dean said.

"And the random new toothbrush that you did not require?" asked Cas with worry.

"That's for you, Cas," laughed Dean as he patted his shoulder.

"Oh. Right, I suppose I did need a new one," Cas ruefully nodded.

"Why are you suddenly on me? You wouldn't think I'm cheating on you, would you?" Dean took a step back and furrowed his eyebrows. Cas hated the despairing look he gave him.

"Never. I am just worried that you are excluding me from your life and hiding things from me," Cas murmured unhappily.

"Hey, I'm not ever gonna leave you out of anything. And if you feel like I am, then tell me, capisce?"

"Yeah, I capisce," Cas smiled and allowed Dean to kiss his forehead. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Nah, I ate. Are you?"

Cas nodded in reply and glanced over at the fridge. "Good, 'cause I brought you back some grub," Dean happily told him with a large grin.

"Thank you. I assume you brought pie?" Cas called after him.

"Oh yeah!" Dean replied loudly from the hallway as he heaved the two heavy bags inside. "Here," he handed Cas one and took the other for himself.

"Oh, what did Jody say when you proposed the idea of sushi?" questioned Cas.

"She said that's cool. We're gonna meet her at seven," said Dean. Cas sat in his chair and nodded once.

"Very well. Amalgamated closes at two, so that will give me plenty of time to arrive home and change," Cas pointed out with a yawn.

"And Sunday we can sleep all day," continued Dean.

"I concur," chuckled Cas warmly. Dean simply held a thumbs up and then finished his pie. Cas was almost done with his burger too, but Dean scarfed his pie down before he could take another bite.

"I'll meetcha in the room," he patted Cas's shoulder as he walked by and shuffled into their bedroom. He flopped onto the bed without taking off his shoes and fell asleep almost right away.

Cas came in a half hour later and gently removed Dean's shoes before crawling under the blankets himself. He curled close for warmth and drifted to sleep in a few short minutes.


	3. The Dinner

January 9, 2016 (28 Days Left)

With Cas off at work, Dean did nothing but sit on his ass all day. There also happened to be nothing on TV, so he stared at the wall the whole time.

It was excruciatingly boring. Until his phone rang and he answered it. "Winchester."

"Hey, it's me. Just wondering if you wanna go to a movie or something with Gabriel and I?" Sam wondered.

"With you, sure. Not so sure about that gremlin you call a roomate, but whatever," Dean agreed as he stood up. "I need to change first though," he added.

"You do that, I'll ask Gabe what he wants to see and get back to you," Sam said.

"Okay," Dean hung up before Sam could say anymore and went to take a shower. He shot Cas a text telling him where he'd be afterwards and then headed out after sticking his wallet, keys, and phone in his pockets.

The languid movement of the birds beside his apartment window made him pause, deep in thought. Something about them made his skin crawl with impatience as thir beady eyes stared him down.

He shook the feeling from his mind and made his way to the elevator leading to the parking garage. It was always nice, he thought, living over a parking garage. A bit of a hassle sometimes to find in his car in the confusing maze of concrete, but still, nice.

It was with these thoughts that Dean found himself lost in the expanse of the garage. "Shit," he muttered as he circled in place to find where he was.

He began walking in one direction, the floor beginning to tilt up as he arrived on the third floor. He groaned and turned back the way he had come; second floor passing and then hurried to the first. There.

Dean spotted his Baby in her usual parking spot, her black coat shining in the afternoon sunlight. "Oh, thank God," he whispered happily.

As he approached, he noticed a paper taped to the windshield. "What the hell?" Reaching out with a tentative hand, he snatched it up and examined it.

It's so sad how little you actually know about this story. You think you have the whole thing, but nothing is as it seems with you, Dean. Not anymore.

Dean backed away and swivled his head around to inspect the other cars. They were all familiar to his eyes, and no movement could be detected. The killer somehow knew his name and now knew where he lived.

He grabbed his phone only to find it gone from his pocket. That was when he noticed the slight waver above the Impala's engine from the heat, meaning it had been driven fairly recently. Had she been here when he'd first come out?

Dean wasn't sure what to think anymore, but he fumbled to get his keys out and climb into the car. He took off the covering that led to the wires that would jumpstart the engine.

They were completely fine. Cas and himself were the only ones with keys, and Cas's had been in their place, hanging on the wall and stone cold. Dean looked up above the hood again, but this time there was nothing.

Dean wrote it off as exhaustion and started the car. It stuttered in protest before revving and returning to its normal, familiar rumble. That made his heart flutter unwelcomingly in his chest.

He dialed Sam once again (his phone had been on the floor by the elevator, thankfully still in one piece) and waited patiently for the answer.

"Yeah?"

"I'm on the way over," Dean told him.

"Just now? It's been like a half hour," Sam pointed out with a small chuckle. Dean thought he could make out a definite note of concern in his brother's voice.

"Couldn't find the car, what can I say?" he laughed at himself as he finally pulled out of the parking garage and turned onto the street leading to FDR. Without much traffic - work hadn't quite let out yet - it wasn't long before Dean was on 79th and finally pulling into the last parking spot at Sam's apartment complex.

He hadn't realized until just now that he hadn't moved the phone from his ear, but Sam had long ago finished the conversation.

Almost reluctantly, Dean clambered out of the Impala, clomped up the stairs (the elevator had been broken for a few weeks, and the owner hadn't gotten around to fixing it), and rapped his knuckles against Sam's door. He checked the watch on his wrist and saw it was ten minutes after five.

The pure white door opened to reveal a short, golden (almost a whiskey color) eyed man. The sharp line of his nose and the smirk on his face made Dean scowl. He had finally cut his hair to a boyish length, longer in the front so it flopped into his eyes. His black framed, square glasses sat snugly on his face.

"Well, heya there, Deano!" Gabriel said happily, his voice rising in pitch in his immature excitement. "Come in."

Dean gave Gabriel a bitter smile and walked inside, careful to avoid touching him. "Where's Sam?"

"Samsquatch is fixing his hair," Gabriel told him. "You know how unruly it gets when it's windy like today," he added with a mischevious grin.

"Right. Well, look, man, I gotta be back at my place in like an hour 'cause I've got a dinner I have to go to. So, no movie," said Dean with a slight sigh.

"Deano's got a date?" Gabriel wondered, arching an eyebrow in question.

"Yeah. A double date, actually," Dean rubbed a hand down his face and nodded slightly.

"Who's the lucky lady?" Gabriel asked as he closed the door and moved them both into the tiny living room

Dean looked at the shorter man like he was nuts and scoffed.

"I'm kidding, Dean. I know you're married to Cassie," Gabriel laughed heartily and slapped the coffee table in his amusement.

"Gabe, stop messing with Dean. You know he doesn't like you," Sam suddenly said as he came out, drying his hair with a fluffy towel.

"Damn right," Dean muttered at the same time Gabriel pouted, "Rude," and crossed his arms.

"I'm assuming Gabe told you about the movie?" Sam wondered.

"I can't go," Dean replied as an answer.

"Good, because I can't either," Sam told him. He set his towel down on the kitchen counter and smiled slightly. The golden tints in his hair shone happily in the sun.

"Great. Is it still okay if I hang here for like another forty or so minutes?" Dean checked his watch and then glanced back at his brother.

"Uh, sure. I mean, Gabe'll be out here while I finish getting ready but, yeah, you're welcome to stay," Sam agreed with another large smile.

"It's fine, as long as your boyfriend keeps his perverted opinions to himself," Dean said, looking to Gabriel to make sure he heard.

"He will. And he's not my boyfriend, we're just roommates. Don't confuse reality with porn again," Sam warned as Dean rolled his eyes and flipped him off.

"Whatever," he muttered.

"So, what'd you do with the Impala? Why's it have a scratch?" Gabriel suddenly wondered.

"Some jackass decided to cut me off the other day and scratched my Baby," Dean growled as he remembered the incident. "Pissed me off, I hate New York traffic."

"We've lived with it our entire lives, and you're only just now realizing that New York traffic sucks?" Sam asked in a teasing tone.

"Yeah, very funny, Sammy," Dean said back.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Sam? Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old," Sam told him moodily.

"You let Gabriel call you Sammich and Gigantor and Samsquatch, but I can't call you Sammy? Come on, man, I'm your brother," Dean chuckled at Sam's blush as his brother glanced at Gabriel.

"He doesn't call me those things," Sam argued weakly.

Dean simply raised an eyebrow and shook his head. No more words were spoken between them until Dean had to leave.

"Drive safe," Sam told him with a hug.

"Have fun on your date. Maybe you can get laid," Gabriel added on as he wiggled his eyebrows and smirked.

Dean raised his hand and pointed at Gabriel, "Shut up," and then turned to Sam. "I will. See you Monday?"

"Actually, no. Bobby got me a partner so I get to be out in the field Monday. My first case," Sam grinned as Dean laughed joyfully and slapped his shoulder.

"Nice job, man! I'm proud of you," he announced while Sam massaged his shoulder.

Sam gave a nervous laugh and shrugged. "Thanks."

Dean held a thumbs up, then whirled around and headed to his car. After getting in and starting the engine, he sped off back to his home. With it being closer to six, the traffic was terrible, but he managed to get home at about 6:20 and hurry upstairs.

One shower later, he was changing into his nicer clothes. A simple black tuxedo and his only tie, which happened to be a dark mahogany and thin, white striped one. He grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone from his jeans and then went to the Impala, panicking.  
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
Cas stood outside the bank and finally took out his phone to text Dean.

Dean, where are you? I have been standing outside for hours.

Amalgamated had closed four hours ago, and Dean had not been there to pick him up. He had texted him a grand total of three times, asking where he was.

The Impala pulled up and Dean raced out to Cas, the engine still running. "Fuck, Cas! Why the hell didn't you call me or something?" asked Dean as he arrived at his side and looked him over.

"I texted you three times," Cas replied evenly.

"No you didn't. I got the one you just sent. You should've taken the bus at least!" exclaimed Dean with concern.

"My worry is that you forgot me, and I do not fully grasp why," Cas told him as they both turned and walked to the car.

"I didn't forget you, Cas, I was... God I was fucking trying to figure out this damn case," answered Dean. It was a lie, Dean had done nothing but sit on his ass. Why was he lying? He hadn't forgotten Cas, he had believed he'd take the bus home.

"Have you made any further discoveries about the car?" questioned Cas once they were both seated inside the Impala and headed toward the resturant.

"Not yet. I'm gonna have to take the pictures in to Bobby so he can give them to the witness. That way we'll be able to figure out which one it is," Dean explained.

"I see," Cas mumbled as they turned onto Columbus Street.

"What's it called? Like Cary of Columbus?" Dean wondered.

"Gari of Columbus, Dean," corrected Cas with a chuckle.

"Yeah, that," Dean smiled. They turned into the parking lot and found a somewhat decent parking spot. "What kind of stuff do they sell here?"

"We have never been, so I would not know either, Dean," Cas replied as they climbed out and headed inside. They told the man at the front they were with the Mills party, and were lead back into the dimly lit restaurant to find Jody laughing with another man.

"Oh, howdy, Dean. Is this your husband?" Jody questioned as she stood and reached out to shake Cas's hand. "Heard a lotta good things about you, Castiel," she greeted.

"And I, you," he answered with a polite smile.

"So, Dean and Cas, this is my husband, Sean," Jody introduced them with a smile. "Sean, this is Dean and Cas," she motioned to each in turn.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Dean. I've heard lots of great things about your work," Sean complimented with a firm handshake.

"Oh, it's nothing, really," Dean brushed it off with a nervous chuckle and then finally sat down, Cas on his right. Jody sat across from him, and Sean took the seat across from Dean. After they ordered their food, Dean stood to use the restroom. Which left Cas alone with people he barely knew.

"So, Castiel, Dean tells me you work at a bank?" Jody took a sip of her water and looked up at him.

Cas nodded, "Yes. I am a teller at Amalgamated Bank," he told her.

"Which one?" Sean wondered curiously.

"It's on East 14th Street," Cas answered with a nervous glance toward where Dean had disappeared to.

"Oh, wow. That's a nice one. You know, I know a Ruby that works there. Do you know her?" Sean continued with his question.

"She is my superior," replied Cas in a confirmative tone. "She is an interesting woman to know," he added when Sean opened his mouth to speak.

"Took the words right outta my mouth," he laughed good-naturedly. Dean came back and sat down, glancing at Cas.

"Did I miss something, Cas?" he wondered innocently, raising an eyebrow.

"He was just tellin' us what an interesting woman Ruby is," Jody told him dismissively.

"Ah, yes. I've heard," Dean smiled as Cas reached over and patted his knee with a fond smile and sparkling eyes.

Their food arrived in the next few minutes and they ate in silence. Cas eventually stole some of Dean's summer roll, grinning when he elbowed him and stole some of Cas's for himself.

"How long have you two been married?" Jody suddenly wondered, making them both look over with a slight flush to their cheeks.

"It's been - uh - five years?" Dean glanced at Cas.

"It will be six in March," Cas commented. Dean nodded slightly and smiled down at the table.

"That's a long time to be with someone. You're lucky to find a guy who can put up with you," Jody pointed at Dean, which earned a laugh from Cas.

"It is extremely difficult at times, but he is worth it," he told them. Jody gave an "aw" and looked over at Sean.

He was still chewing a few bites of food, looking up at them with confusion. "What?" he mumbled through his mouthful of egg rolls. Jody simply shook her head and chuckled.

"What time is it?" Cas asked Dean as he leaned closer to him. Dean took out his phone and checked the time.

"Almost eight," answered Dean softly. "Why, you tired?"

Cas nodded curtly but sunk further into his seat and sighed gently. "Hey, we're gonna head out. Cas had a long day at work and someone who won't be named may have left him outside for a few hours," Dean told them as he stood. Cas looked up at him in surprise but stood as well.

"Okay. I had fun. I'll see ya, Dean," Jody called as they headed out.

"I'm still really sorry I left you," Dean suddenly said with a weird tone in his voice.

"I know, Dean," Cas told him gently. "It has happened before," he added as an assurance.

"Only because I didn't know your schedule. I don't even know why it happened, honestly," Dean admitted sadly. "It wasn't because of research," he added.

"Dean, I forgive you, honey," Cas told him.

"Yeah, well, I don't," Dean muttered while he turned a corner and nearly slammed into the car in front of him. "Fucking light is slow as shit," he mumbled bitterly.

"Calm down, Dean. It will all be fine," Cas replied gently.

"I'm just pissed," Dean growled as he waited for the light to turn green. When it finally did, he seethed at the other cars to hurry up and then ran the yellow.

"I cannot believe I am married to you," Cas joked with a laugh. "The roadrage you have is unreal," he went on when Dean honked at another car who nearly ran him off the road.

"Well, when people suck at driving it's kinda hard not to get mad," Dean said back. Cas laughed softly and shook his head.

"Did you enjoy the dinner?" Cas wondered suddenly. Dean glanced over at him and shrugged.

"It was nice to get out of the house," he commented. "But, I don't think I'm much of a social person."

Cas rolled his eyes at that. "People love you, Dean. I am the one that is not social," he corrected.

"You kidding me? They were eating up your words like nobody's business, man. I have to admit, your charms better get turned down or I'm gonna start getting jealous," Dean pointed out.

"You're joking. I have sex with you at least two times a week and you are worried about a girl stealing me? I am positive I am gay," Cas remarked, making Dean choke on the air he was breathing.

"If that ever comes up in conversation, don't ever actually mention that again," replied Dean in a rush as Cas looked over at him with concerned, narrowing eyes.

"Why would I tell people about our sex life?" Cas wondered.

Dean simply shrugged in answer and pulled into their parking garage to park. The spot he usually took was still open, so he parked in it and then killed the engine. "It's almost nine," he commented.

"The perfect time to sleep," responded Cas adamantly as they both clambered out of the car and started to the elevator.

"I totally agree, man. I'm beat," Dean noted with a glance at Cas, who agreed with a nod.

Once they arrived inside, they both quickly undressed and fell into the bed. They curled close to each other and easily fell into their dreams.  
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
January 15, 2016 (22 Days Left)

"Eyewitness was a bust," Bobby announced when he saw Dean in his office. "Couldn't identify the car from these," he added with a defeated sigh.

"Oh, great. That's always nice to know," Dean muttered bitterly before standing up and going to the door. He took the folder back from Bobby's hands and shook his head.

"I know, nauseating, ain't it?" Bobby raised an eyebrow when Dean ran a hand down his face and nodded.

"Oh, come in real quick," Dean suddenly exclaimed as he stepped back into his office and motioned Bobby in. The older man followed after him and stared hard at the chalkboard in the room.

"Is that what I think it is?" he asked hesitantly.

"It's a map of New York. Look, I plotted the points where the murders took place," Dean said as he pointed them out. "The first one, Sarah Blake, she was found in upstate Bronx," he moved his hand to the top. Bobby gave a nod.

"The second kid, Matthew Pike, was found just outside Manhattan. Here," Dean pointed to the tiny penisula of Brooklyn by the border of Manhattan.

"What're you getting at here, Dean?" Bobby asked him.

"Look, if you connect the murders, they form half a pentagram. I think we might be dealing with Nick Jensen," Dean responded as he finally turned back to face Bobby.

Bobby's eyes widened as he stared at Dean with shock, mouth agape. "You better hope you're kiddin', boy. That man is a shadow, ain't no way we're catching him if it is him," he growled.

"Come on, Bobby. You put me on this case, and I fully expect to catch this fucker," Dean snapped, his fists clenched at his side.

"I ain't taking you off the case. I'm just saying that we've worked cases with him before. We ain't ever caught him before. He's been the most nefarious serial killer I've ever seen for years, Dean," Bobby quickly explained. "I just don't think anyone can catch the bastard."

"Well, I'm gonna make sure and be that guy. I'm not gonna let you down, Bobby," Dean responded before turning back to the board. Bobby gave a small sigh, but didn't say anything else. He left the office and went back to his own, shaking his head.

"Lord, don't let that kid get hurt," he muttered unhappily.  
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
January 18, 2016 (19 Days Left)

Monday came before Dean was really ready for it. He didn't think he had ever felt so tired in his life. Not to mention there was something wrong with Cas, but he would say nothing of it.

"What's wrong?" Dean had asked him softly. It was the morning after all, and who knew what Cas was thinking.

"You wouldn't understand," Cas had responded moodily. Dean had left that morning with a sour taste in his mouth and a raging headache. A hangover without drinking? He couldn't be sure.

"Good morning, Dean," Josie greeted him with a kind smile and a coffee.

"This morning is anything but good, Josie. Thanks for the coffee," Dean said as he took the steaming beverage from her hands.

"Trouble in paradise?" Josie wondered innocently.

"Might as well be. Cas isn't telling me what's wrong with him. I dunno, I'm worried about him. And this case isn't helping me at all. I've got nearly three weeks left, and I haven't got any leads on where Nick's gonna strike next," Dean complained.

"Have you tried connecting the pentagram?" Josie questioned.

"Yeah, but there's still two possiblities of where he'll strike next," Dean motioned to the chalkboard and sighed.

"Your apartment is in the middle," Josie remarked cautiously.

"Yeah?" Dean asked her with confusion.

"So, the middle of the pentagram is the most important. It's the Locus, the central point. Look, these two are pointing up - a symbol of evil - they represent the Perivolcan Ze and Pa. The boy, he is the Mesostal Ze, and Baldur is the Aphelion. All that's left is the Locus and the Mesostal Pa," Josie pointed at each one in turn.

"He's gonna kill someone near my apartment?" Dean asked her with fear.

"More like at your apartment. But he could go for the other Mesostal point," Josie stepped away and regarded the map.

"In my apartment building. Great," Dean muttered as he ran his hands down his face with weariness.

"You've got another eighteen days to figure out who," Josie told him as she slowly backed out the door.

"Maybe go over the surveillance videos again?" Dean suggested to himself as he stood and knelt down to dig through the box. When he found the right one, he sat back up and checked the time. Maybe Bobby would let him go home early.

"Doubt it," he mumbled to himself, even as he walked toward the elevator to Bobby's office. He was almost run over by Garth's cart of files.

"Oh, sorry, Dean. We gotta stop running into each other like this, huh?" he asked with a high chuckle.

"Just move over so I can get out," Dean muttered sharply. Garth quickly scooted over and allowed Dean room to step out and head toward Bobby's door. He gave a single knock before the door flew open and Kevin raced out past Dean.

"Garth, wait!" he called as he frantically raced down to the stairs. Dean rolled his eyes and walked into the office to find Bobby crouched over his desk.

"Bobby?" he asked.

The older man looked up and dipped his head slightly. "Dean. What're you still doing here? Go home, boy. Ain't no reason for you to be here if there ain't no more work," Bobby ordered.

"Alright. I just wanted to let you know that I'm taking one of the surveillance videos home," said Dean as he held it up.

"Fine. You want a thingy for it?" Bobby wondered, motioning to the padded envelopes. Dean shook his head and took his leave.

After he picked up Cas at the bank, he drove them both home.

"You're off early," Cas commented wearily.

"Yeah. I've got a video to watch, and Bobby decided I could go since there wasn't much to do today," Dean explained. "I did find the pattern in Nick's killings though, with Josie's help," he went on.

"Fascinating," Cas mumbled.

"What's up with you, Cas? You feeling okay? I'm worried," Dean looked over at him, the elevator coming to a stop on their floor.

"I'm just tired. I didn't sleep last night," answered Cas with a large yawn that was too exaggerated to be fake.

"Why not?" Dean questioned with concern.

"It's a long story, Dean. I am tired, so I am going to bed. Join me when you're ready," Cas replied as he unlocked the door and shuffled straight to their bedroom.

"Hey, all I want is the truth, Cas. Why didn't you sleep last night?" Dean asked him as he reached out and grabbed his arm.

"I'm worried about Ruby," Cas snapped as he yanked his arm away. "Now, let me sleep," he added before turning away and going into their bedroom. The door slammed to close behind him.

Dean stood in the hallway with a look of surprise on his face, eyes filled with worry. Why was Cas worried about Ruby? What had happened? He didn't understand what was going on.

Dean turned away from the door and went to the living room, snatching up the tape and popping it into the VHS player.

Static appeared on the screen until Dean fastforwarded the tape a bit. It showed a blurry image of a hooded man walking toward a car. All Dean could make out was that the car was a type of luxury model, not much else was visable.

He couldn't even make out the liscense plate. "What the hell?" Dean asked himself as he watched the man knock on the car window. The window rolled down and he saw them converse for a few minutes before the man finally started walking away.

He had seen this video before, almost too long ago, but for some reason he couldn't remember this happening. A woman finally emerged from the car with a purse around her arm, and the man from before came up behind her and grabbed her. It looked like he had a hand over her mouth to muffle her screams as she struggled.

Dean paused the video just as the man looked up into the camera, the streetlights shining onto his features. He reached for his phone and dialed Bobby's number as he stared at the screen.

"This better be damn important, boy. I'm in the middle of something," Bobby answered.

"I was rewatching the surveillance video again. I've got it paused on the guys face, Bobby. The killer's face is visable, he made a mistake," Dean said excitedly.

"What? You sure, Dean? You better not be joking," Bobby snapped. "We need this."

"Yeah," Dean laughed, "yeah, Bobby. I'm not even kidding, man, I'm staring at his face right now," he went on with relief.

"I knew I was right puttin' you on this case, boy. Print it when you get a chance and I'll release it," Bobby commanded. "I ain't gonna tell them your name, though. Nick'll go after you if I do," he added with a small sigh.

"Yeah, no thanks," replied Dean with a small laugh.

"Didn't think so. Get that to me as soon as you can, and I'll get it out," Bobby repeated.

"Yeah, definitely. I'll see you tomorrow," Dean softly agreed. "I'll get on it," he added before pulling the phone away and hanging up.

Dean gave a breathless laugh before taking the video out. He needed to figure out how the hell to get the picture. He would have to go back into the office to print it out. "Tomorrow," he murmured to himself. Right now, he was tired. He glanced at the clock to see it was only 5:30.

"Maybe dinner first," Dean said as he went to the bedroom door and knocked on it.

"Go away," Cas called groggily.

"Do you want dinner? I can make burgers or something," Dean asked him gently.

"Now that you mention it, I am hungry," agreed Cas with a loud groan.

"So burgers?" Dean asked again.

"Yes," Cas replied. The door opened to reveal a messy-haired Cas without a shirt on and just in boxers. His eyes were half closed.

"You look hot," Dean teased to his disheveled husband.

"Oh, I'm sure. I do try," grinned Cas happily.

"You seem better," Dean pointed out cautiously.

"Yes, Ruby called before I fell asleep. She's feeling better," Cas answered happily.

"She was sick?" Dean wondered as he turned back to look at him.

"Yes. She was out for this past week and no one had heard from her," Cas told him. Dean nodded slightly and gave him a gentle pat on the back.

"Glad to here she's alright," he said. "Now, on the matter of dinner," he paused, "it'll be ready in about ten minutes."

"That gives me time to use the restroom, then," said Cas as he stood. Dean smiled and went back to making the burgers. He hoped that being worried about Ruby was Cas's only problem.

He seemed so distant lately. He decided not to let it bother him too much. After all, Cas was always kind of oddly distant from everyone except him. And even then, he only told Dean things when they ended up being resolved.

This was fine. He could handle this Cas. In fact, if he was being honest, he preferred secretive Cas to pissed-off-to-no-end Cas.

By the time Cas came back to the table, Dean had finished the food. "Here you go," he handed Cas a plate and sat down across from him.

"Thank you, Dean," Cas mumbled through a yawn. "I really do not wish to work tomorrow," he suddenly said.

"Why not?" asked Dean with concern. Cas loved working at the bank.

"I am tired. And Ruby was acting weird while I was texting. Avoiding questions and things like that," Cas wearily told Dean.

"I'm sure she's still recovering from being sick. If you're really worried about it I can easily get answers from her," Dean replied.

"I'd rather you didn't torture her," snarked Cas.

"Hey, I don't torture. It's called interrogation, Cas, and it's extremely useful, thank you very much," Dean pointed his finger at him before taking bite of his burger. Cas said nothing else while he finished his food and then went back to the room to sleep longer.


	4. The Suspect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one day, what!? I'm just kinda on a roll with writing. I'll be starting the next chapter of Written Glory tomorrow, and hopefully I'll have it out by Sunday. Enjoy!

January 22, 2016 (15 Days Left)

Dean handed over the printed photo on Tuesday to Bobby as promised. Already it had spread throughout the news world and papers, and it was only Friday. Every station showing news was reporting on the discovery of Nick Jensen being the killer.

Dean could only hope none of the reporters found out his name or he and Cas would have to go into major hiding.

"Coffee?" Josie asked as she gently rapped her knuckles against his office door, interrupting his disturbing train of thought. A mug of the warm beverage rested in her other hand.

"Fuck, yes please. I'm exhausted and I can't think straight. Thanks," Dean said as he extended a hand and accepted the wonderful smelling brew.

"Not a problem. Two spoons of sugar, just how you like it," Josie smiled down at him. "Any progress, agent?"

"Not a drop. I wish I could figure out where he's located. It would make this a lot easier," Dean commented before setting the cup down and moving to the chalkboard. He studied it for a moment and thought hard.

"I've been thinking about that, actually. Nick wouldn't go for an abandoned building like most. No, he's a real big spender, hence the car," explained Josie as she came to stand at Dean's side.

"The car?"

"Yeah it was a Tesla when I was with him. Newest model," she nodded once. Dean started and scrounged in his desk for the folder Bobby had returned to him.

"Like this?" he asked, frantically showing her the picture of the Tesla Model S.

"Well, this wasn't his. He most likely just got this one. But yeah, it was definitely a Tesla. He was in love with them," Josie's voice went wistful and she quickly cleared her throat. She tried to hide the fact that her eyes had glazed over with tears.

Dean sprinted from the office and toward the stairs, stumbling with his dress shoes on as he raced towards Bobby's office. He needed to tell the older man this information.

"Bobby! It's a Tesla!" Dean announced as he stormed into his office. He found Crowley straightening up to face Dean and Bobby looking up at him.

"Ya idjit. I'm in the middle of a damn meeting, and you're goin' on about cars?" the surly man asked harshly, adjusting the faded blue ball cap on his ruddy head.

"Not just any car, Bobby. The car driven by Nick Jensen. It's a Tesla Model S," said Dean happily. Crowley raised an eyebrow and eyed Bobby to gauge his reaction, looking more than a little curious.

"You can't possibly have figured that out. How'd a dumbass like you even manage to find that?" Crowley wondered in a sneering tone, smirking at Dean's angry glare.

"Bobby, you've gotta trust me on this, man," Dean focused his gaze on his father figure and gave a telepathic plea.

"Alright. Dammit, boy, if you're wrong about this-" Bobby cut himself off and pointed an accusing finger at Dean.

"Thanks, Bobby. I'm gonna catch this guy!" Dean called before hurrying back to his own office.   
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
January 25, 2016 (12 Days Left)

When Monday came around again, Dean had discovered nothing new. The weekend had been full of Cas complaining about how weird Ruby was acting.

"Cas, just ask her what's going on? Maybe she's pregnant or something, I dunno," Dean had told him with a slight edge of irritation in his voice.

Cas had sighed and rolled his eyes. "She won't even talk to me, Dean. That's what I'm trying to tell you. She won't answer my calls or texts anymore. I do not understand why!"

"She's probably just got a lot on her mind, Cas, especially since it's almost the end of the month," Dean had replied with a comforting smile. Cas had helped him clean up the dishes and they had taken a shower together before falling asleep.

"Coffee today?" wondered Josie as she arrived in Dean's office with a mug and a box.

"Uh, no thanks, Josie. What's the box?"

"Doughnuts. They're for Charlie, but you're welcome to have one. I'll just tell her I ate it," Josie stepped forward and opened the box to let Dean take one.

"Thanks. I needed some sugar today," he muttered around the bite he had taken.

Josie wrinkled her nose slightly but nodded. "No problem. Long weekend?"

"Yeah. Cas is driving me crazy with his worrying. I just need a break from all of this, but I need to find this fucking dick and stop him from killing," Dean ran a hand down his face and sighed heavily.

"You shouldn't be so hard on him," Josie paused as Dean looked up at her, "I just meant - Cas is a worrywart. You've told me that yourself. Just let him worry, and be there for him."

Dean gave a sardonic chuckle and rolled his eyes. "I'm not hard on him. And I am there for him all the time," he said as he shuffled through a file and put the picture of the Tesla back inside.

"I'm just saying, Dean. I've got to run these up to Charlie. I suggest you call your husband and tell him you love him," Josie singsonged before flouncing away with a happy flourish of her skirt.

Dean grumbled his displeasure but withdrew his phone from his pocket and dialed Cas's number.

"Hello, Dean," he greeted.

"Hey, Cas. Do you wanna go to a movie after work today? I'll pick you up," Dean wondered.

"I suppose. May I ask why you had to call to ask me? Could you not have just picked me up and taken me to a movie?"

"It's more romantic to ask. If you want I can stop and get you some... hy-o-cinths," Dean suggested happily.

"I don't believe you pronounced that correctly," Cas said.

"Very funny. Do you want some or not?" asked Dean with a slight laugh.

"I'm surprised you remembered they were my favorite," Cas commented softly, his voice taking on a joyous tone.

"Yeah, well, I try. It's kinda hard to forget when you made me court you with them," Dean laughed.

There was silence for a moment before Cas gave a hearty laugh that went straight to Dean's already gleeful heart. "I remember that. I told you the only way to make me say yes was to use them," he recalled with a smile in his voice.

"And I was determined you were gonna say yes to me, Cas. Do you know how long it took me to find those damn things? They don't even exist here. I had to get them flown to me!"

"You never told me that. I didn't realize I was so important to you back then," Cas said gently.

"You're still important to me now. Probably now more so than ever," responded Dean, suddenly turning serious.

"Well, thank you, Dean. You are important to me as well. I look forward to our date tonight," Castiel told him before hanging up.

Dean grinned happily and set his phone down, only just now noticing Bobby's form standing in his doorway.

"No personal calls at work, boy. How many times I gotta remind you?" Bobby raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

"Right. Sorry, Bobby," Dean's smile fell and he sighed softly. "What's up?"

"I need you to go back to Baldur's house and look over it for more evidence," Bobby ordered.

"Now?" questioned Dean in disbelief.

"Now in two weeks - yes, now, you idjit," Bobby snapped.

Dean raised his hands in surrender and stood up, reaching for his coat. "Will do," he slipped it on and then went to the door. "I should take a kit in case I find anything. And a camera," he mumbled to himself as Bobby turned and let him out.

"Yeah, I'd say that's a damn good idea," Bobby shot back. Dean swallowed a sarcastic remark and gathered his things before leaving the building. He had been hoping to get home earlier so he could get ready and have time to pick up flowers.

Fuck. Dean shook his head and started the Impala, pulling away and starting on his way to Baldur's house once again.   
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
When he arrived at the scene, the crime tape was beginning to peel away. He simply tore it down and opened the door. It was still unlocked. He slipped on a pair of gloves once inside and began to inspect the kitchen.

The others had mostly cleaned up the blood, stains still setting harder into the floor, but they hadn't managed to get any off the ceiling. He glanced up at it but didn't notice anything different. Still, he snapped a picture with the camera hanging around his neck as procedure.

"Let's check the bedroom, shall we?" Dean murmured to himself softly and headed that way. The bedroom was immaculate, pristine and obviously just cleaned. He set his kit down and opened it, grabbing a UV Lamp and goggles to look for leftover blood.

What he found wasn't blood. "Looks like Baldur wasn't the hardcore Christian everyone thought," Dean took a sample and stood up. His knees where aching and he had found nothing that would lead to Nick Jensen.

"Is someone in here?" a voice called from the front of the house, making Dean freeze and stiffen as he stuffed everything back in his kit box.

"Private Investigator, ma'am. May I ask who you are?" he stormed out with a glare and his badge flashing. The women jumped and put a hand over her heart.

"I'm Baldur's cousin. Apparently I'm his only next of kin still alive," she answered with a breathless laugh. Dean didn't see how this women was related to Baldur in any way. She had dark skin and dark brown eyes.

"You are Baldur's cousin? Yeah, that's unlikely. You're infringing on this crime scene, so I'm gonna have to take you into the precinct," snapped Dean as he reached out and grabbed the women's arm.

"No, you don't understand!" she announced haughtily even as Dean tugged her through the door and shoved her into the back of his beloved Impala.

"Oh, I understand fine, ma'am," he started, "and, sorry, but I'm not taking any chances."

The dark-skinned women gave a sardonic laugh, her mouth twisting up into a snarl as Dean started the car and headed away from the house. "This is because of my color isn't it?"

"What?" Dean looked at her through his rearview mirror in disbelief. "Absolutely not," he replied with a hint of disgust in his voice. "Just 'cause I'm a New York private investigator doesn't mean I'm prejudice in any way," he added to himself as a reassurance.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Already told you. If you'd listen this wouldn't be a problem," said Dean as he made a turn. He could almost hear the women roll her eyes if the annoyed sigh was any indication. A sudden idea sparked his mind and he spoke, "I'll need a DNA sample from you as well."

"Oh, of course you do," she snipped and crossed her arms over her chest. A thunderclap sounded overhead as they drove the rest of the way in silence. Dark clouds loomed above the city like bruises, blotting the sky out and casting shadows on the people below.

"Let's go," Dean called once he pulled up to the precinct and killed the engine. He led the women inside and to a room for questioning. He took a sample of her DNA, swabbing her mouth before walking to the front.

"Heya, Deano. How've you been?" asked Donna happily when Dean came back out.

"Wonderful, Donna. How 'bout you?" he questioned back conversationally.

"Oh, you know," she threw a hand forward and laughed. "I've been working out lately," she looked up at Dean.

"Working out? Why?" he wondered with sincere confusion.

"I've gotta lose my tummy so my husband'll stop ragging on me," Donna replied with a self-deprecating laugh.

"That's ridiculous. Any guy who's not gonna accept you for who you are - which, by the way, you're perfectly fine - is a douche and doesn't deserve you," growled Dean as he reached forward and grabbed a doughnut from the box. He stuffed a bite in his mouth and shook his head. "Besides, food is too good to diet from," he added, his words garbled from the pastry.

"Oh, well..." Donna trailed off and shrugged her shoulders. "Thank you," she suddenly said before standing and hurrying to the bathroom.

"Hey, Crowley! Are you here?" Dean called as he leaned into the window. "I - uh -" he groaned slightly before continuing "- I need you."

Crowley appeared in front of him in about two seconds with a snarky grin. "Squirrel. You called me?"

"Yeah, look. I've got a suspect in interrogation room two, but I've gotta run back to the PI building to drop off some evidence. Just watch her and make sure she doesn't run off?"

"Consider it done, then. Happy delivering," Crowley gave a crooked smile and turned to walk to the room.   
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
After Dean dropped off the DNA samples to Charlie, he headed back to the precinct to interrogate the suspect. His clock told him it was nearly 2:30, meaning he had an hour and a half to pick Cas up. He may not have time for the flowers after all.

"If you don't have any evidence you can't hold me overnight. I know my rights," the women snarked when Dean opened the door.

He gave a short chuckle and sat down in front of her. "Look. We can do this the easy way or the hard way," he warned. The folder he had brought rested on the table in between them.

"What do you want to know?" she wondered.

"First off, what's your name?" Dean asked her. "And what relationship do you have with Baldur?"

"My name is Kali. The relationship I have with Baldur is purely business, I can assure you," Kali answered.

"So you two have never had a sexual encounter of any kind?" Dean asked to be sure, but Kali simply shook her head. "What were you doing in his house this afternoon?"

"He called me about a month ago saying he had something for me. He made it extremely clear that I was to come today and at that specific time. But then I saw you - a private investigator - and I saw the blood and I just knew," Kali sniffled slightly and swiped her hands across her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Kali. Now, if I can ask, what kind of business did you do with him?"

"That's classified," Kali muttered.

"Nothing is classified in an investigation. I need to know, Kali. It could mean the difference between catching a killer or another death," explained Dean in a warning tone.

"Baldur and I traded information. I would tell him weaknesses of local business men and in return I would receive a share of the profit. It's why he was able to become so rich so quickly," Kali told him with a bit of guilt in her voice.

"Did you meet at his house or somewhere else?" Dean questioned.

"We met at another place. It belonged to a women. I - I can't remember her name. She had curly black hair," Kali tried to describe her.

"Ok, so another women was involved? Could you describe her to a sketch artist?" wondered Dean.

"Maybe. Yes, I'll try," Kali agreed. Dean stood and she followed him back to his car.   
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
Dean received a copy sketch ten minutes before he left, and what he saw made his stomach churn with unease. He picked Cas up at the bank with a happy smile. "Sorry, hon. No time for flowers. The greater good called," Dean told him.

"That's alright, Dean. What movie are we going to be attending?" wondered Cas.

"What're you in the mood for?"

"I suppose an action movie would be alright tonight. How was work?" Cas asked jovially.

"Interesting. We've got a suspect right now. Bobby is bringing her in for questioning. How was your day?"

Cas sighed softly and looked out the window. "Ruby feels better. She spoke with me today about family issues," he responded wearily.

"Yeah? She's not - uh - I dunno, acting suspicious at all?" Dean asked with a slight laugh.

"Not any more so than usual. I had to deal with an unusually rude man today. Ruby took him into the back to deal with him,"

"Did you get his name?" wondered Dean.

"No, he would not give me his license. He was being very loud and would not listen to my direction. I assume he had a rather terrible day beforehand," responded Cas with a sad sigh.

"Still not an excuse for the guy to be a douche," Dean snapped. "What did he look like?"

"I can't remember very well. I was busy attempting to calm him down," Cas told him with an indifferent tone. Dean gave Cas a sideways glance before turning into Main Street Cinema. "I'm only telling the truth," Cas mumured.

"Yeah, well, so am I. You gotta stop letting people walk all over you, Cas. It ain't right," Dean told him. They clambered out of the car together while Dean ranted. "That guy's got a lot of nerve messin' with you. I mean, come on, look at you. You're fucking adorable, who would ever be a dick to you?"

"I'm not adorable. What are we seeing?" wondered Cas when they arrived at the ticket booth.

Dean looked over the options and shrugged. "You like bible stuff. We could see Risen," he suggested.

"Oh, wonderful!" Cas's eyes lit up and Dean couldn't hide his wide grin.

"Hello, sir!" the woman inside called cheerfully.

"Hi. Can I get - uh - two for Risen at 5:10, please?" Dean asked her. She grabbed the tickets and then rung up their purchase.

"That'll be $15.93," she recited. Dean handed over his credit card with a smile. Her fingers brushed against his and she chuckled slightly. Cas set his head on Dean's shoulder to whisper into his ear.

"Save that smile for someone else, you big flirt," he told him softly. Dean relaxed into him, pressing their bodies together and reaching back to twine their fingers.

"What'll it get me?" he questioned sensually.

"You'll see tonight," Cas murmured before kissing his cheek. Dean pulled away and accepted his credit card back. The woman gave him a hesitant thank you and then turned her attention to the next couple.

"I have successfully averted her attention away from how beautiful you're eyes are. I feel that warrants a reward," Cas suggested lewdly, surprising Dean with a slap to his rear.

"Hey, watch it, Winchester. We are in public and there are children here," Dean warned in a fierce whisper.

Cas gave a small chuckle as they bought popcorn and a large drink to share. "Why do you think I did it, Dean?" he asked. They allowed the man at the next booth to tear their ticket stubs.

"Theater nine is at the end of the hall on the left. Enjoy your movie," he sounded bored but they didn't seem to notice.

"I'm excited for this movie. I'm hoping they managed to get the history right at least," said Cas with a sigh.

"And if they don't?" Dean wondered.

"I suppose I will have to deal," answered Cas with a chuckle.  
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
"I could have directed that movie much more accurately," Cas announced when they were safely in the confines of the Impala.

"You think so?" Dean teased happily.

"I know. Despite the discrepancies, I would still like to own that when it is available," Cas finally declares when they pull out of the cinema.

Dean chuckled and glanced over at him, reaching out to lace their fingers together. "I'll remember that for birthdays. Or Christmas," he assured him. Cas hummed softly and lifted Dean's hand to kiss the knuckles.

"So you informed me that you had a suspect. Will that information be on the news?" Cas asked with curiosity, staring at Dean with something akin to reverence.

Dean glanced at him and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "If Bobby wants it too, then yeah. Otherwise it'll probably stay under wraps," he admitted, a shrug following his words.

"And I suppose you won't be allowed to share that information outside of the investigation," Cas remarked.

"Right. It could endanger you anyway, Cas. What do you want for dinner?" Dean changed the subject quickly, not wanting to continue on this topic of discussion.

"The popcorn made me quite full. But we could stop for milkshakes," suggested Cas as he shifted his gaze to the oncoming traffic.

"Milkshakes for dinner," Dean laughed, "wonderful. I'm up for that," he agreed. Cas gave an approving smile while Dean tried to get into a different lane since theirs wasn't moving anymore.   
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
They decided to drink their milkshakes inside, as traffic was still terrible. It was there that it first began.

Dean was glancing around and happened to notice a familiar face staring at him through the window. Cas had gone to the bathroom and Dean was frozen as Nick Jensen glared at him with an easy smirk.

Dean bolted to his feet, earning a few surprised mumurs from the staff. Nick raised his arm and waved lightly, still smiling as he backed away from the window and disappeared behind a group of teenagers.

What the hell? How did he find me? How the fuck does he know who I am?

"Dean? Are you alright?" Cas set his hand on Dean's shoulder, which made him jump in answer.

"I - uh - I just - I thought I saw someone," he stuttered through a haphazard lie that had him cringing. He managed to lie to Cas too often, it seemed.

"Well, sit down, darling. Perhaps they will come in and we can converse," Cas latched onto his hand and tugged at it gently to get him to the table. His wide eyes still glued to the window, he followed Cas's orders and plopped into his seat without another word.

"Dean?" Cas set his hand on top of Dean's, gaining his attention once more before speaking again. "You look as if you've seen a ghost. What really happened?" he wondered with worry.

Dean ran his unoccupied hand over his face and sighed heavily, shaking his head. "We can't talk about it here," he mumbled. Cas nodded in understanding.

"Finish your milkshake, Cas," Dean pointed at the beverage in front of him. The two straws inside the amber liquid sat lazily until Cas disturbed one to drink.

"Are you going to have any more?" wondered Cas with a quirk of his head. Dean declined and Cas effectively sucked the rest of it down with a trace of a smile and a suggestive look at Dean.

"None of that. We have a wonderful home to return to and wine to celebrate with," Dean quickly returned.

Cas squinted at him, "What are we celebrating?" he wondered as his eyebrows drew together.

Dean just gave a soft chuckle and stood, prompting Cas do the same as he started heading to the door. "I still don't understand what we will be celebrating, Dean," he began hesitantly.

"We are celebrating nothing except the amazing marriage we have. And the fact that I am now officially one step closer to catching a killer, because Bobby just texted and said the suspect may be involved," Dean grinned happily down at his phone and unlocked the car for them to climb inside.

"That's wonderful news, Dean. Perhaps you can question them and learn the whereabouts of Nick Jensen," Cas suggested helpfully, gazing over at Dean with bright sparkling eyes.

Dean nodded again and his smile seemed to grow impossibly wider in his joy. Cas gave a small laugh as they finally pulled away and started their journey home, his mind wandering as they drove. He hadn't seen Dean smile like that since their wedding, which made him a little melancholic.

"Is this the wine that your office assitant gave you for our wedding?" Cas suddenly questioned.

Dean gave a playful shrug, "It could be. The only one I refused to open because it was my favorite kind, or some bull like that," he laughed. His phone went off as he said that, and he handed it to Cas to answer.

"This is Castiel," he answered to let the caller know.

"Howdy, Cas. Can ya tell Dean I need him to come into the office for a few minutes. I've got some info I think he'll appreciate," Bobby replied in his usual gruff manner.

"Of course, Mr. Singer. I will inform him of the situation," Cas assured him.

Bobby gave a soft grunt, "Thanks," he muttered. Cas hung up after saying goodbye and looked over at Dean.

"It seems the wine will have to wait. Bobby has information to share with you, and would like for you to visit the office for a few minutes," Cas told him once Dean gave him a confused glance.

"Oh, great," he mumbled with a bitter bite of sarcasm that made Cas shake his head. He made the next right and sped up so he might get there faster.

When they pulled up, Dean left the engine running and started inside. He ran into someone as he was crossing to get to the door. "Oh, God, sorry," he rushed to say as he looked over.

Nick Jensen stood in front of him, shrugging and stepping away. "It's no bother, Dean, really. I'll see you around," he gave Dean's shoulder a hard pat and then leaned in to whisper something in his ear. "Nothing about this encounter is chance, Dean. Oh, and I would keep that attractive little blue-eyed banker as close as you can," he sneered before walking away and disappearing into the New York foot traffic.

Dean stood at the entrance with a sense of dread and anxiety coursing through him. It wasn't until Josie came and grabbed his arm that he finally moved a few minutes later. "Bobby's been waiting for you and you've been standing by that door for twenty minutes just staring," she announced with concern. "What happened?"

"I - I saw him. He was here - Nick Jensen. He told me that it wasn't a coincidence he was here. I saw him and I let him go," Dean whispered. Josie pushed the elevator button and stuck Dean inside when it finally opened.

"Right," she said, "just go see Bobby. He's in his office."

Dean just nodded numbly and didn't say another word, still in shock from the experience. When the elevator finally opened to Bobby's floor, he could barely make his legs work. He knocked on the door once he managed to get there and then opened it to see Bobby sitting at his desk.

"I'm thinkin' of lettin' the suspect go. Even with the search warrant, we didn't find anythin'. She didn't seem to know anything when we questioned her either," he explained as he stood and motioned for Dean to come closer. "You know her, don't you? Doesn't she work with your husband?"

"Yeah, Bobby. That's what freaks me out. Maybe I could talk to her? I still don't think she'll offer me anything more, but it's always a possibility," suggested Dean idly as he plopped into one of Bobby's chairs.

"Maybe. That DNA you gave Charlie didn't match with what you found at the house, and that Ruby woman refuses to hand any over. See if you can get her to do that. I'll hold her overnight, so go get some rest. First thing tomorrow, boy," Bobby waved at the door and Dean took that as his cue to leave.

"Thanks, Bobby. I'm gonna figure this out," Dean took his leave then and rushed back to the car. He was paranoid that Nick would suddenly appear beside him from thin air, but that didn't happen and he wasn't complaining.

"Hello, Dean. How was it?" Cas gladly inquired when Dean climbed back into the Impala and started the engine.

"Ru - the suspect doesn't seem to know anything. Bobby wants me to interview them again tomorrow and try to get a DNA sample from them," Dean barely caught himself from saying her name.

"If they don't know anything, why would you asking change that?" asked Cas with confusion.

Dean sighed softly and glanced over at him. "I know them. So Bobby thinks that'll make them talk," he explained.

"You know them? That is terrible. To think you are associated with someone who could know of the whereabouts of a killer - it's downright frightening," Cas shivered like he was cold and grimaced.

"Yeah, well. Unfortunately you know them too. Just, look at the picture in the folder," Dean pointed to it where it rested on his floorboard. Cas shot him an odd look and reached for said folder, opening it to reveal a composite sketch.

"Oh, dear. Is this - is this Ruby?" Cas's eyes went wide as he studied the drawing. The likeness was nearly spot-on, and that's what alarmed Dean the most. Kali knew Ruby well enough - had seen her enough times to properly describe every feature in detail. It was startling.

They didn't drink the wine when they get into the apartment and Cas went to bed far before normal. Dean knew this hadn't been a good idea, but Cas needed to know that he couldn't trust that woman anymore. Dean figured this was easier than keeping it secret.

The regret still lingered.


End file.
